


Beautiful Storms.

by fearless_seas



Category: American History RPF
Genre: It hurts Monroe so much, M/M, Mini, talk of death, to think about Madison dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 07:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10759302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearless_seas/pseuds/fearless_seas
Summary: Prompt: things you said that i wish you hadn’t.





	Beautiful Storms.

**Author's Note:**

> I got this as a request on my Tumblr @sonofhistory

          “I’m going to die first.”

          James Monroe was definitely not expecting that at the dinner table and stopped his fork halfway to his mouth, raising an eyebrow, blinking several times with all eyelashes. There was that silence, deep rooting in the air and he swallowed, chewing on his inner cheek. “What makes you say that?”

          Across the table, James Madison inclined his head, a small sigh slipping past his lips, setting his chin against the palm of his hand, “It’s a feeling.”

          Something sinister settled in and Monroe set his fork back on his plate, his heart hammered vigorously against his ribs. He glared at the silhouette across from him, rubbing his fingers together, placing them in his lap where they trembled, “I’m the more reckless one.” A circularly scar embedded into the skin on his left shoulder began to ache. 

          Madison’s soft, thin eyebrows met in the center of his forehead, melting there like chocolate that splashed, contaminating the corners of his eyes, all of his facial features softening to those words as if they’d been thrown at his face. “But I am the more sickly one, Jas, it’s a wonder I’ve lasted this long.” Monroe caught one tiny glance, short, just a flicker that caressed the spot where that scar lay on his sheath under his clothing.

           Towering over the other in his seat, his gut pooled with anxiety, tightening and screaming in his abdomen. Madison had taken it so lightly, the heaviness in his heart did not ease and his stomach twisted deeper like the serrated edge of a knife had been inserted into his body–or perhaps the kick of a bullet. Fearful he’d sit across in that same spot at the kitchen table one day, gaze across towards the other end, searching for even a ghost of the man who used to be there spot. There would be no head in his lap at the living room couch and not even a phantom on the empty side of the bed. 

           Those words seemed to rip themselves in his memory, his eyes fell to the table, setting his jaw. That formation of letters was lightening, he was struck and they best pieces of himself burnt off;  _It was only a sentence._ Monroe blinked the pain from his eyes, raising his chin to meet his lover's concerned glimpse forcing a smile to his mouth to ease Madison's firm postulation, a smile that was absent of his heart, “It’s only because I make sure you eat.” 

           Madison placed his hand in the center of the table, "If death steals me away--"

           "James, no--"

           "If death steals me away", he swallowed and their eyes met; gray of storms and blue of the seas collided to create the most influential storm, "Promise me this: never forget how beautiful our hurricanes were."

            Monroe nodded, the dimple in the center of his cheek quivering, biting on the flesh of his lip. Tasting rainfall like summer storms, fighting like a forest fire in a tornado of trouble. In his darkest days he'll turn around and maybe Madison will be there and perhaps he wont, but it was a collision of singularities on the fields where thunder dueled; the most beautiful storm to wreak havoc on this world.

            "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Such a tiny fic, comments and kudos are nice, haha. I love my tiny historical ship.


End file.
